


As Deep As Roots

by GloriaVictoria (orphan_account)



Series: My Promising Career in Espionage [3]
Category: Skyfall (2012) - Fandom
Genre: Drabble, Drabble Collection, Fluff, French Kissing, Groping, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-19
Updated: 2012-12-19
Packaged: 2017-11-21 13:20:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/598213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/GloriaVictoria
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There they stayed, their bodies fitting together as naturally as the deep growth of roots: inevitable and unstoppable.</p>
            </blockquote>





	As Deep As Roots

**Author's Note:**

> Part of the My Promising Career in Espionage series of drabbles centered around 007 and Q's daily life.

It wasn’t often that Q removed himself from his high-tech computer panels and endless feeds of information, but when he did, he’d often bike out to the country and simply immerse himself in the unassuming beauty of it. Stress could not thrive in the sound of windblown leaves and the lowing of cattle; London was unforgiving and harsh, and working at MI6 was more than enough to fray anyone’s nerves. These excursions, though few and far between, were the closest things to “vacation days” that he got.

Q had a specific spot set aside for these occasions: a little alcove outside a rather obscure village. The place was marked by a tall oak that grew amidst a number of shrubs and bushes, whose branches formed a neat canopy for him to sit beneath. If the ground was dry, he’d shimmy up against the trunk, lean back, and watch the sunlight filter through the leaves, casting complex patterns of line and shadow across his skin. It was here that he had conceived some of his best designs; there were times when he’d simply close his eyes and write lines of code, his mind at perfect peace.

It was during one of those blissful moments that he was discovered by Bond. It was like being caught with his pants down.

“Do you have any concept of privacy?” Bond gracelessly plopped down next to him and sighed deeply, a carefree smile—or at least as close to a smile as he could muster—on his grizzled face.

“Lovely place, this. A bit lonely though. Reminds me of where I grew up.”

Q straightened his glasses and clenched his jaw irritably; he had no idea how he’d found him, but he suspected Moneypenny was somehow involved. He’d have to have a word with her later. Again.

“Alright, Bond, I’ll bite: what do you want?” 

The agent’s smile shrunk back to its standard position of stoic calm. “I wanted to see where you disappeared to on your days off, so I tracked you.”

“Bond, have you ever been accused of being a stalker?” He only smirked in reply, and Q pinched the bridge of his nose. “Well, if you must know, I come here to think—preferably alone.”

Bond chuckled and crossed his legs at the ankles, folding his arms behind his head. “You can think alone at home in your pyjamas, can’t you?” 

“It’s not the same.” Q sucked in a quick breath and pulled his knees to his chest. “I am by no means an outdoorsman, but…I’ve always been drawn to nature. Especially trees: they’re so strong and old, and I suppose I admire them, in a way. Sitting here under its branches and taking everything in around me fills me with a sort of reverence for the genius of the earth.” Bond listened quietly, his eyes bright with amusement and the corners of his mouth turned upward in a wry smile. Q noticed and quickly shut up, blushing in embarrassment. “Forgive me. That was hideously sentimental.”

“Oh, yes. Utter nonsense, really.” But Bond’s expression did not change. “You might have a shot at poetry, from the sound of you.”

“Now that _is_ utter nonsense.” Q snorted and closed his eyes. They sat in silence for a while, listening to the birds in the branches above them sing.

“Hard to find the time to sit back and enjoy life, isn’t it?”

“Yes, it is. Especially in _our_ line of work.”

“Time’s fleeting. One ought to live for the moment.” 

Q’s brow wrinkled quizzically. “Yes, I suppose. Bond, what exactly are you getting at?” He did not respond with words. Instead, he leaned over and brushed his lips against Q’s gently, without demand or expectation. The bristle of his chin scratched at his cheeks, but Q kissed back—he wasn’t sure why. Bond’s hands buried themselves in Q’s hair, roved over his back and chest as he explored his mouth with his tongue, and there they stayed, their bodies fitting together as naturally as the deep growth of roots: inevitable and unstoppable.


End file.
